Yet he downa gang to bed,
For his heart is in a flame
To meet his bonny lassie,
When the kye comes hame.

When the little wee bit heart
Rises high in the breast,
And the little wee bit starn
Rises red in the east,
O there's a joy sae dear,

That the heart can hardly frame

Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie,

When the kye comes hame.

Then since all Nature joins
In this love without alloy,
O, wha wad prove a traitor
To Nature's dearest joy?
Or wha wad choose a crown,
Wi' its perils and its fame,
And miss his bonny lassie,
When the kye comes hame.
When the kye comes hame,
When the kye comes hame,
"Tween the gloaming and the mirk,
When the kye comes hame.

[This is Mr. Hogg's 'favourite pastoral for singing.']

THE MINSTREL BOY.

JAMES HOGG.

The minstrel Boy to the glen is gone,
In its deepest dells you'll find him,
Where echoes sing to his music's tone,
And fairies listen behind him.

He sings of nature all in her prime,
Of sweets that around him hover,
Of mountain heath and moorland thyme,
And trifles that tell the lover.

How wildly sweet is the minstrel's lay,

Through cliffs and wild woods ringing,
For, ah! there is love to beacon his way,
And hope in the songs he's singing!
The bard may indite, and the minstrel sing,
And maidens may chorus it rarely;

But unless there be love in the heart within,
The ditty will charm but sparely.

THE SKYLARK.

JAMES HOGG.

Bird of the wilderness,

Blythesome and cumberless,

Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!
Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling place

O to abide in the desert with thee!

Wild is thy lay and loud,

Far in the downy cloud,

Love gives it energy, love gave it birth,
Where, on thy dewy wing

Where art thou journeying?

Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.

O'er fell and fountain sheen,

O'er moor and mountain green, O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, Over the cloudlet dim,

Over the rainbows rim,

Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!

Then, when the gloaming comes,

Low in the heather blooms,

Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be! Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling place

O to abide in the desert with thee!

WHEN MAGGY GANGS AWAY.

JAMES HOGG,

O what will a' the lads do

When Maggy gangs away

O what will a' the lads do

?

When Maggy gangs away?
There's no a heart in a' the glen
That disna dread the day.

O what will a' the lads do

When Maggy gangs away?

Young Jock has taen the hill for't-
A waefu' wight is he;

Poor Harry's taen the bed for't,
An' laid him down to dee;
An' Sandy's gane unto the kirk,
And learnin fast to pray.
And, O, what will the lads do
When Maggy gangs away?

The young laird o' the Lang-Shaw
Has drunk her health in wine;
The priest has said-in confidence-
The lassie was divine-

And that is mair in maiden's praise
Than ony priest should say:

But, O, what will the lads do
When Maggy gangs away?

The wailing in our green glen
That day will quaver high,
"Twill draw the redbreast frae the wood,
The laverock from the sky;

The fairies frae their beds o' dew
Will rise an' join the lay :
An hey! what a day will be
When Maggy gangs away!

THE WEE HOUSE.

JAMES HOGG.

I like thee weel, my wee auld house,
Tho' laigh thy wa's an' flat the riggin,
Though round thy lum the sourock grows,
An' rain-draps gaw my cozy biggin',
Lang hast thou happit mine and me,

My head's grown grey aneath thy kipple, And aye the ingle cheek was free

Baith to the blind man an' the cripple.

What gart my ewes thrive on the hill,
-An' kept my little store increasin'?
The rich man never wish'd me ill,

The poor man left me aye his blessin'.
Troth I maun greet wi' thee to part,
Though to a better house I'm flittin';
Sic joys will never glad my heart
As I've had by this hallan sittin'.

My bonny bairns around me smiled,
My sonsy wife sat by me spinning,
Aye lilting o'er her ditties wild,

In notes sae artless an' sae winning.
Our frugal meal was aye a feast,

Our e'ening psalm a hymn of joy; Sae calm an' peacefu' was our rest, Our bliss, our love, without alloy.